The carriage clattered over the cobbles, pulling up at the entrance to Pemberley with a whinny and a 'whoa'. Jemima took a deep breath and practiced her smile; she knew that she had to make an impression this week, had to ensure that Fitzwilliam Darcy, with his houses and his estates and his ten thousand a year, would ask her to be his wife. She was sure that it was imminent, he had already sought permission from her Uncle, and she had been suitably attired by her Aunt's modiste, who was already half enraptured at the thought of dressing the future Mrs Darcy of Derbyshire. Indeed, excepting the actual proposal, Jemima half believed herself to already be the mistress of Pemberley, and was determined to act as if the marriage license had already been acquired.
"Miss Godwin," Fitz said, not wanting to catch her eye as he held her gloved hand in his, helping her alight from the carriage.
"Mr Darcy," she smiled up at him.
"May I introduce to you my sister, Georgiana."
Jemima had never met the young Miss Darcy, but had already heard enough about her to know that she was a threat. The girl stood next to her brother, the assumption being, she presumed, that she was to be the hostess at Pemberley until she was suitably married off herself. Well, Jemima thought, don't believe that this will last for much longer. Once she was firmly ensconced within the Darcy family, she would whisper in Fitz's ear to have the girl sent to a boarding school in Manchester or Liverpool, maybe even London… because the further away the better. Georgiana was the same height as her, and was dressed in a most unassuming way, a plain green cotton dress with not even a hint of embroidery or embellishment. Jemima knew that her own printed muslins and satins would pay to any dowdy gowns that Miss Darcy might have in her closet, and wondered quickly why such a well-off young lady with such a grand inheritance would choose to dress like the daughter of a clergyman, it was most unbecoming to a lady of her rank. She curtseyed and smiled politely, but was pleased to note that Darcy took her own hand, and not that of his sisters as they walked under the arch and into the courtyard.
It was a warm, summer afternoon and Georgiana had planned for them all to take tea on the lawn, but this plan had changed upon a small murmur from Miss Godwin to Fitzwilliam, and now they were sitting in the saloon, the windows open, the air fresh, the gilt gleaming. Outside the gardens at Pemberley were beautiful and Georgiana knew that the gardeners had been working hard because the new borders were shimmering with colour, and her mother's Rose Garden was an explosion of scent and petals, Georgiana had hoped that Miss Godwin, in all of her London finery, would appreciate the simple joys of the outdoors, particularly here in Derbyshire. Her brother had been excited for the entire morning, walking around and checking that everything was in its place and Mrs Reynolds too had similarly been on tenterhooks at the prospect of Miss Godwin's arrival. Georgiana had liked the change in her brother, had enjoyed seeing some of his lightness return, Fitzwilliam could sometimes be lost in a cold winter, despondent gloom settling upon him, but recently he was blooming, the flowers bursting out all over his face.
"And what think of you Pemberley, Miss Godwin?"
It was important to Darcy that Jemima liked his home here. The house in London was fancy enough, with the ballroom and the grandeur, but Pemberley was the most important place to Darcy. It was where he always felt most at home, the place where he could be himself.
"It is very agreeable," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. It was too warm in here, she thought, too much fresh air. Jemima did not enjoy the gentility of the country, always found that people were far too interested in each other's business, and she did not care for the sun either, did not want her skin to take on a golden hue, which was not fashionable in London.
"How was your journey?" Georgiana asked, gesturing to Owens to offer bread and cheese.
"As pleasant as it can be when one is travelling so far out of London," she said.
If Miss Godwin was being entirely honest, she would have stated that the journey had been hideous, her Uncle's coach nowhere near as comfortable or as luxurious as the Darcy-crested barouche that Georgiana Darcy was used to taking her journeys in.
"How wonderful, I am so glad that you have come," she smiled. "My brother and I were eager for you to visit our home and see the delights of the Derbyshire countryside."
"I hope that you find them agreeable," Darcy said softly. "Miss Hurst and Miss Beatrice are already here, I suspect you will have the pleasure of their acquaintance soon, and Mr and Miss Bingley, are amongst those you consider friends, are they not."
"Very much so," she said, a hint of flirtation in her voice. "and it is through Mrs Hurst that we are so comfortably acquainted."
"It is," he smiled back.
Darcy felt his heart flutter inside his chest, he couldn't help but smile when he saw her, knew that he was already half in love with her.
"Mrs Hurst is one of my dearest friends," Georgiana said. "Why, she is almost a sister to me."
"That is a dear friendship, Miss Darcy," Jemima was annoyed at being interrupted.
"It really is," Georgiana noticed the annoyance, "and I always keep my friends close, Miss Godwin."
The lady smiled at her, but Georgiana did not feel any hint of amiability from her, rather a thinly veiled animosity. Oh, Jemima Godwin. It will do me well to keep a care about you, she thought, as she sipped her tea.
Louisa was travelling with Caroline and Charles, her husband had ridden on ahead the night before. He had told her he was eager as ever to see his daughters, but she knew it was rather to get started on the ample case of ruby red wines and luscious ports that he had already sent up to Pemberley a week before. Caroline was fractious, already annoyed at the thought of two weeks in Derbyshire, and eager to venture to Hertfordshire where she would be playing mistress at Netherfield. Charles had regaled both women with how beautiful the country estate was, and Darcy himself had agreed and stated that the house was superb.
Caroline sighed, "why are we bothering with Pemberley, when we could be travelling to Netherfield."
"Because Fitz is our dear friend, Caroline, and he invited us to his home," Louisa snapped, "besides which, Netherfield is neither ready for us, or us for it. You have to collect your gowns from Madame Fuchs yet and Charles said Michaelmas, indeed all of our plans revolve around that date as you are well aware."
Caroline harrumphed on her seat in the carriage, whilst Charles gently snored, his head resting against the window. "I know that, but it appears to me to be a waste of my labours…If everything is settled between Darcy and Miss Godwin, of course."
"You did not want to marry Fitzwilliam, excepting those first few weeks of flirtation pressed upon you by Mama, so please do not pretend now that he has been in your sights all along."
"He hasn't," she sighed, "but now it all seems so final."
Louisa wondered if it was, there was nothing in place so far and Fitz had barely written half a word to her on the subject, despite sending almost a letter a day.
"What is final?" He sputtered, still half asleep, jolted awake by a rock on the road.
"Jemima Godwin and Darcy," Louisa said. "I heard it was all settled."
Charles sat up, "oh, no. I mean, he wants to take her for his wife, and why would he not? Decidedly beautiful girl, isn't she? But, it all depends, doesn't it…"
"On what?" Caroline sat up straight.
"Yes," Louisa asked, "on what?"
Charles Bingley very rarely had the full attention of both of his sisters, and yet here they both were, captivated by his every word. Louisa was older, Caroline younger, but both were much cleverer than him in ways he would never fully understand. The Bingleys were new money, their fortune made in trade. Samuel Bingley had acquired vast sums which had been passed down to Charles as his only son and heir, but their sprawling business interests scattered across the north required more care and attention than he knew how to handle. If his sisters had been fortunate enough to have been born male, it would have been Louisa who would be taking on the brunt of the responsibility, with Charles perhaps in charge of one of the smaller concerns, Caroline maybe becoming an attorney, but as it was everything fell upon Bingley himself. It was one of the reasons why he had bonded so furiously with Darcy, who was in a similar situation, and despite being older the two had become fast friends.
"Well," he adjusted his posture in the carriage, "it all depends on whether or not Georgiana likes her too. Darcy is rather enamoured with Miss Godwin, but he is a businessman, he thinks long-term."
"I say, Charles," Caroline retorted, "that seems like a rather harsh way to view his romance."
"Maybe," he continued, "but Darcy is not going to marry someone who doesn't get along with his sister. It's very important to him, Georgiana is almost the only family he has."
"And does Miss Godwin know this?" Louisa was fairly sure that she did not.
"No," Charles said, slouching back down into the padded seat, "I don't think she would."
"Of course not," Caroline sniffed. "Why Jemima Godwin barely condescends to like her own family, she will think not a snifter of passing off Georgiana Darcy."
"Caroline!" Her sister admonished with a raise of her voice, "you are being unduly harsh."
"Unduly harsh indeed! I am being nothing of the kind."
"Why, sister," Charles laughed, "anyone would think you were determined to have Darcy for yourself."
"I would sooner marry Darcy, and have a less than tolerable life in Derbyshire, than see him shackled to Jemima Godwin. Her family are insufferable, and her horrendous uncle makes no attempts whatsoever to hide his machinations. He has a particular talent for social climbing, which you will note in the most recent marriages of his daughters."
"We are all social climbers, Caroline. Our family are no exception to that," Louisa said.
"Aye," Charles agreed, "that we are, Louisa. Indeed I think that we are only accepted at St James's because of our connections with the Darcys and by association, the Fitzwilliams, we would find ourselves on the outskirts were it not for their friendship."
"At least we are honest about it, brother," Caroline began her explanation, with a defiant ring to her voice. "I do not pretend to be something I am not, I cannot pretend to be enamoured with a gentleman if all I deign to think about is his fortune."
"Not even with that handsome young Scottish Earl, sister?" Louisa raised her eyebrow, she knew that Caroline, for all of her talk, desired to be elevated in rank, to be received in all of the best houses, and a marriage to someone of an even higher sphere than Fitzwilliam would guarantee that.
"Oh, she has got you there, Caroline," Charles laughed, "what about that gentleman who sought your own acquaintance? Scandalously rich, so I heard…"
Caroline's face softened and a soft pink hue crossed her cheek, "I was not interested in him because of what he could offer my purse, believe it or not."
"Were you in love with him?" Charles was curious, "because if you were then that would be a damned foolish thing to let slip through your fingers."
"And what if I were in love with him? The match is made with another, he will marry and fulfil his obligations, all of it forgotten."
"No worry, sister," Charles said, "Christopher Dalhousie is not the pinnacle for which you must reach. There will be other gentlemen with bigger fortunes."
"It was never about his fortune, Charles," Caroline's voice was quieter now, "I would not have married him for that, only for love."
"There are few of us who can allow ourselves to marry for love, sister," Louisa said quietly, "there is no folly in marrying for security… friendship."
"I know that," she said, "but I would only marry for friendship if I had exhausted all other possibilities, and I know that Fitzwilliam is the same."
"Do you not believe that Jemima Godwin is a good match for Darcy, then Caroline?" Bingley trusted the opinions of his sisters more than he would necessarily allow them to believe.
"I do not, Charles," said Caroline.
"And you, Louisa?"
Louisa felt partly to blame for this sequence of events, had pushed Jemima into the path of Darcy for a casual flirtation to alleviate his most recent of worries. She had not expected her dear friend to fall for Miss Godwin, had merely anticipated a lightening of his mood, a return to his usual geniality.
"Sister?" Charles pressed.
"I do not," she said reluctantly.
"Well," he leaned back in the coach, "these should prove to be an interesting few days, if Darcy is doing all he can to convince Miss Godwin to marry him, and you two are doing everything to convince him otherwise."
The coach passed under the archway, crossed over the bridge and continued on to Pemberley, Louisa followed the curve of the driveway as the house came into view on the horizon. These were going to be an interesting few days indeed, she thought.
